Wolf RPG

Phantom Hollow is only a rocks throw away from Alduin’s beloved Heartwood. The walk doesn’t take long, but still the Hollow is big enough to eat up an hour or so of their shared time. 

The thick fog plaguing the Hollow doesn’t fade when the forest begins to cripple and become dark with dead trees and soot. Rather, it follows them there too, giving the Heartwood an eerie glow in the night. It’s quiet too, terrifyingly so, save for the absent caw of a raven or vulture  — the birds that loiter along the decaying branches the most he’s noticed.

As they step into the remains of a fiery disaster, only the hellhounds lumbering steps betray the stark silence. Only at least before his voice does.

“This is the Heartwood.” He hums drably, looking forward the entirety of their journey. He’s already stared at him enough to last a lifetime.

He continues though.

“You will become my Harbinger of death. But not only that, but you, and others of your rank, will be our diplomats.” A pause sounds out. “It seems you have enough charm and patience to speak. I do not.” 

After his last words are grit out, the ashen hound would drift closer to the base of a blackened tree. Brushing his side along it and lifting a muscular hind leg, he carelessly marks it with the scent of the forsaken. And just like that, he’s on his way once more.

On long limbs. They walked. Loped. Trotted. On their way to the distance land they were to claim. Forsaken. Two males, broken and beaten, but had not lost. He had felt the eyes boring. Glaring. Staring. Stirring. The primal beast that lay dormant had risen up, taken shape. He had felt the embers of the stares, and he had reveled in it. There was power in lust, something that Dreven knew how to use. It was a good reminder that Dreven had been handsome and he supposed he still was past the scars.

Tattered ears swivel. Turn. Crunch of soot and ash under feet. Gritty. Grimy. Strange, pieces of darkness wedged in footpads. Dreven had put his nose to the ground. Sniffing. Smelling deep. The scent of death, decay tickled his nostrils and yet. There was newness, green grasses, flowers. Life poking it's head back up to touch the sky in the forest of ruin. Much like Drev had done.

His new king speaks. Deep voice, curling, resounding. Leaving. It flittered around him, harsh and heavy, much like the man himself, but it left a lasting feeling. A strength in his chest, in his core.

Dreven likes the sound of that rank. I will endeavor to do my best. He scratches out at some of the borders. LIfts his own leg to piss upon the trees and rocks. Red Eyes pooling from one end of the new lands to the other. Lifting up. Up towards the heavens. The bones of trees reaching. Flailing. Begging. There was no god there, but no everyone listened.

Dreven knew well that all life offered was pain and eventually death. Peace.

Dreven follows close behind as they move through darkened lands with only touchy spots of life. Alduin moves forward, ensuring with a sideways glance that his Harbinger is following.

He says he will toil and endure. That is what Alduin expected of him. He would have it no other way. He hopes he will make a fine leader of Alduin we’re to die suddenly — which wouldn’t be surprise. There are many things that threaten his life, but perhaps his sanity will be his greatest downfall.

They have yet to see.

So Alduin hums pleasantly to that reply, “Good.” A reply short and sweet, but perhaps more meaningful than many think. Especially when it comes to the hellhound.

They continue, on the way Alduin points out, in few words, the surprising display of life in the near distance — a weeping willow tree. Likely in the swamp neither wolf knows about yet. When that becomes old news, they make it to a small lake that leads to a cave from a shallow, watery pathway.

A touch of masochistic excitement jolts through him as he stops at the waters edge, unsure if the water is deep or not, and peers back to his company. 

“Shall we?” He hums in question, hoping this man knows how to swim at all.

Dreven never strays far from his new leaders side. Occasionally stopping to smell some sort of life or check a prey line to see how strong it is. But he always returns like a brown shadow, sticking to the beast.

Dreven is one that knows how to appease, but also to listen and do a duty. He can think for himself, but usually doesn't. Thinking had no place in the pits, but his father had taught him and his sister had taught him. Though his mother and sister taught him other things too. He shifted. Dreven would step into the mantle of leadership only if he was certain his leader would not return, and he would step back aside, were he to return from a grave or a journey plus.

The buzz of the males voice leaves Dreven feeling soft. His ears forward. Praise. Adoration of sorts. Again the creature emotion Dreven knows so well, pops forth. Digging. Tearing. But he will do nothing for now.


Dreven eyed the water and the distance they would need to travel to get to the underwater cavern. A flare of unease licks at his withers, but not the water no. The cave system, beyond him. One ear flicks to his head. But when he sees red eyes boring. Staring. Begging. Hot and purposeful, beneath his skin. He steps into the water, deeper, deeper he goes and begins a strong sure stroke towards the cavern system.

Close to one another and hardly straying, the two men stand near the waters edge. Exploring is something Alduin finds himself doing often nowadays — though usually he’s always done it alone. He’s unsure how he feels about the constant company, but at least Dreven seems like fair entertainment.

And yet, as Alduin wonders if they should proceed, he fixes his gaze on his unlikely companion. They meet eyes and only a second later the scarred man is wading into the waters. Alduin doesn’t hesitate to go in after him. The water is cool, but not uncomfortably so, but surely after a long enough time, the frigid water is sure to take all feeling from limbs and body if one stays in it long enough. 

So they swim and swim, until the cavern is looming over their heads and the water becomes shallow enough to only reach the bend of the brindled beasts elbow. Droplets of water pink pink pink around them, leaving small ropes of ripples to cascade over the otherwise undisturbed lake. Even as their large bodies move through the water, everything seems fairly silent — eerily so.

Until they walk a few paces and the hellhounds foot falls out from beneath him. Slipping into what seems like an enormous sink hole or underwater tunnel, Alduin sinks until he has to kick his legs and swim again.

Releasing a frustrated grunt with a snarl of his lips, he moves back onto the shallow end where he slipped in the first place. Huffing out a breath he gazes over to Dreven.

“Well…” He starts, clearly annoyed. “it looks like it gets deeper. Unless it’s just in this spot.”

Looking around, he slowly moves along the edge of the tunnel, hardly able to see through the dark waters beneath him, but feeling around with a large paw nonetheless.

Dreven would have backed away were it asked of him. Were he asked to leave his new leader alone, he would have left him. However, it was Malacath that had asked him on this excusion. Malacath who had asked him to join him. And a soft quiet center of his mind and heart. Asked if the leader really wanted him there, or simply what he could do for the man. Which the Brute wasn't adverse, but he'd like to know the parameters he was to work under.

The numbness would be welcome at times. A cool caress to an overly hot system. Dreven could think of a few times it would heal and help and make him feel good. Though, he also knew sometimes you just wanted to be numb in all body.

As they swim, it narrows and shrinks. And with it Dreven's heart. His mind is racing. Thundering. Underground. So much shit underground. Darkness all around. Shadows skating and scathing. Burning a hole into his pelt. It's all around him. He takes a deep shuddering breath and another and slowly calms himself physically, while his mind still races.

Though his heart races and plummets. Falling. Tearing ripping. As his leader falls, though he manages to keep his head above water. And back pedals quickly.

Dreven stares at the fathomless black pit. His stomach churning. Burning. Bile raises up in the back of his throat. Slowly his eyes become accustomed.

I would say so. Though I have heard stories of beautiful things under water past the chambers, but the question becomes. Is this one of them, or just a pit.


Dreven goes to the other side. Feeling around with his own paws. Wondering. Sifting. Looking. Learning.

With fur completely soaked through, he slinks around the edge, chin tucked to his chest in an attempt to see past his paws. The other does the same, mentioning hidden wonders past danger underwater caves and the possibility of it only meaning certain death.

Alduin doesn’t mind death.

So, he meets his Harbinger on the other side, completing the circle of the tunnel and coming to the conclusion that the tunnel’s mouth is roughly about five feet in diameter.

Alduin stops close to his companion, head level with his shoulders and a cynical, dangerous type of curiosity shining in dark eyes as he watches the water below him. Only, a second later he attempts to meet Dreven’s eyes, a hardly there, upwards tilt of his lips shows. It’s crooked, only on one side of his maw as he lifts his head to stop only an inch or two away from the other males nose.

That same maniacal excitement shines, it’s muted, but there nonetheless.

“Let’s find out.” He purrs, no fear for death to be found. 

Out of everything that could go wrong — drowning, getting lost and then drowning, being unable to see, or never finding a way back out, it seems Alduin could care less. Yet, the hellhound can see the glint of emotion playing in Dreven’s own orbs and it makes him smile — a handsome toothy sort as he laps a tongue over his own scarred, whiskered lips.

“If I die, you’re promoted.” He adds in a rumbling tone hinted with cynical humor. 

And just like that, Alduin balances claws toes on the edge, takes a deep breath, and dives. 

Nothing but a silent ripple of water is left.

Dreven shifted brown fur plastered to deep muscular chest. Red eyes, burning. Searing into the darkness. Drevin made peace with death. It would be a long rest, long time coming.

Dreven peered onto his leaders eyes. Breath comingling. A slithering, snake of something slid along his back. And he returned the smile with a smirk. His eyes dancing happily. He could reach out with a brush. A touch. He could do so much with the limited space, but he knew not to press. Not to push. It would not end well he didn't think. But if he were feeling bolder, in a more open space, perhaps.

Let's go. he grinned.

If i die you're promoted.

What a way to go though. To rise in the ranks. Malacath disappears beneath the shadowy depths. A deep tendril of something uncustomary takes root deep in his chest and stomach. He hates it.

Though a clamminess steals along his spine. And he paws shake silently. He took a breath and followed behind. Murky darkness and then slowly slowly a glimmer of light

If Alduin’s honest, he didn’t think the other man would trail in after him. Actually, he has no idea that he actively is following after him. Even as the water burns his eyes in the dark waters and his limbs flex with the strain of hardy strokes, he believes he is alone. And then, a few seconds later when his lungs begin to burn and Banesteppe whispers in his ear, he sees light. 

Swimming towards it, he bursts from the water. His forepaws catch on the rim of a dark ledge, lit up by a beautiful neon blue glow. Alduin hangs there for a moment, frozen at the cave that meets his eyes. And then, distracted as he is, he crawls from the water and finds himself on much drier, but still damp, land.

He gazes down to the end of the long corridor lit up with that blindingly bright blue. He wonders what all this is. What makes it look that way. He has no idea, but it’s fascinating nonetheless. 

So he walks a few paces, double coated pelt soggy and stuck to his skin, weighing his curled tail down. Taking a moment, he shakes, spewing water everywhere. With mane spiked up in every which angle, he remembers that he has to go back for Dreven. 

And so he moves to do just that. Planting his toes on the crackling edge of rock, preparing to jump back in, but something makes him wait. With a head hung from his shoulders he stares a deadly gaze into the darkness of the pool.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for what? He’s not sure, but he has a feeling — something’s down there.

Dreven chest was tight and constricted the further he went in, but if there was one thing of many things, that could be said for the beast of brown. It was simply this. Fortifying. Strong. Hardy. Stubborn. The water burned. Fire in his red eyes.

Loud sucking breath as his head breaks the surface. Red eyes closed for just a minute. They open to meet the gaze of Malacath and he smirks. Slowly, achingly he pulled himself from the rim. Didn't wish to fall back in. Stepped paw steps away from his leader. Brown pelt stuck to every crevice and dip. He shook. Water dripped. Dripped to the ground. Large head bent down to lick at some of the fur that peppered his paws, uncomfortable between his toes of wet and dirt. Long flexing moment. Then he lifted his head. Finally. And looks around.

Dreven moved forward a ways and dips black nose down to soggy soil. Deep. Dark. Wet. Soil. He looked beyond the area and a frown marred his jawline.

Probably bugs and fungus that glow. We had it in the pits.

He wasn't sure if that was the blue light, but he wouldn't be surprised. He had found that if something wanted to survive, it did. There was no light in the pits. So the creatures that had lived there. Made their own. Even wolves after years and years of being down there, began to grow paler and brighter. He himself had been one of the lucky ones, only shoved to the pit as a young buck, when he displeased.

Waiting and waiting and waiting. His senses tell him somethings there. And his senses would be right.

A second later, Dreven is breaking the surface with a gasp of air. It’s almost sudden enough to make Alduin jump, but he only ends up taking a step back and witnessing the smirk that paints the others face. A raise of circular brows and the hellhounds own barely there smile would greet him back as he watches the other man pull himself from the waters.

“Thought you got lost for a second.” He hums absentmindedly, almost teasingly. The hellhound must be in a decent mood and with decent company to allow someone to humor him so. Seems this man could call himself lucky.

So he stays in place as the other male shakes off, still soaked to bone in water, and takes his own experimental step forward. When he speaks, his deep voice echos softly off the neon painted cavern, soaking into Alduin ears and driving itself into his very core.

Humming out a sound of acknowledgment at the other man’s guess as to why the place is glowing, Alduin begins moving through the cave. Heavy paws spreading over dark sand and dirt, soggy with water.

“Wonder how far it goes.” He hums mostly to himself, voice quiet and deep in the darkness around them.

Dreven chuckles darkly. Never.

He raises his head to meet the leaders eyes. Did you miss me?

Though he doesn't ask anymore than that and goes back to drying out his coat. He isn't expecting an answer, didn't even really fully mean what he said. A flippant use of words to color the silence that closes in around them.

Dreven moved forward still. Eyes tracing the area and the bioluminescent lights. He sniffs at the side of the wall, glancing at the miniscule traces of water. Dreven moves closer to Malacath and studies him.

Well let's find out.

Did you miss me?

Alduin scoffs in good humor. “Not just yet.” He answers back with an airy hint of humor in a rasping tone.

And just like that, they continue. 

Moving forward and forward until Alduin expresses his distain for coming down here in the first place. That is until the neon blue begins to fade into plain, dry rock. And when they turn one more corner they’re met with a dome of rock with the sun leaking through where it looks as if the ceiling caved in. Trees meet their eyes — full and green — a small river like body of water streaks throughout the moss covering the ground like a carpet alongside tall, luscious grass. 

Alduin stops. 

“Mm.” He hums in a way that could seem humorous. “Seems you were right.” 

After those deep words are spoken, Alduin takes the first step onto the moss below. Soft and fluffy beneath worn paw pads, it’s satisfying is a different type of way. It’s like a paradise — an island in a sea of ruin. So beautiful compared to the rest.

Dreven lifted brutish head at his admission, and smirked.

Not yet. Hmm.

He left it off at that. Not wanting to finish the thought, but leaving just enough of a thought to tease. Yes that was the way to do this thing. Especially given, he wasn't certain how his leader was with others yet. He may not play well even with those he held a bit of esteem for.


Dreven's red gems grew wide at the beauty that unfolded beneath them. He took a deep breath and smelled clean air, flowers, trees, and a dusting of rock. It was simply breathtaking, even for him. The scarred beast. The Consort, the warrior. He bent down to sniff at the moss at his feet, a glimmer of laughter in his face, when his leader spoke.

It happens on occasion.

He settled to his haunches and then further down, down, sphinxlike body stretching long limbs across the moss with a sigh of contentment and a soft burr in the back of his throat.

Tilting his head in the other direction, he sees the surprise there too — almost mirroring Alduin’s own. His gaze follows as the giant man lowers his head to sniff the ground, a smile almost overcoming a scarred visage. 

It happens on occasion.

Al gives him a dry humored look accompanied by a quick raise of twin brows and a huff of breath from his nose. “We’ll see.” He adds as a tease, but just like that, he’s trekking a few feet further into this foreign environment.

Until he hears a grassy plop and a growling purr he can’t quite ignore. With his body facing away from the other, he turns his head around like an owl in the night. Only to find his newfound companion stretching out and rubbing all over the moss. He stares, deadpan and quiet.

“Very indulgent of you.” He hums back. Absentmindedly tracking crimson orbs down the man’s figure.

Not allowing himself to stare for long he turns away, swaying a curled tail over his hips before shaking off his pelt once more. He merely stares and stares at the nature before him now. 

“I may find myself here more often.” He murmurs quietly.

It reminds him of the Strath — of the Saints.

And then, all of a sudden, he wants to leave.

A chuckle rattled from Dreven's throat. Deep and Full bodied, much like his laughter always was, though he didn't laugh fully often. But he found amusement in this little treasure of a place and his leader.

Dreven feels the stare and tightens and releases his paws with a smirk.

It's the simple things you know.

He tilted his head and slowly moved back to his feet. Long paws underneath him, quietly waiting while his leader looks and searches. He didn't want to be far in case of. He was certain there was nothing here to harm them, but just in case.

It's certainly a small space fit for a King. Was Dreven's quiet murmur to his leader's admission.

It was beautiful. Though, Dreven wasn't certain if he himself would come often. The thought of having to constantly go underground, made his chest tighten a little, but he would do it if Malacath wanted. And he would probably show Saga if she hadn't seen it already. There maybe plant life down here she could use.